The Santa Klaus Murder Read Free

him a good deal. His doctor, however, said that the old man might still last for many years, if he took life easily and was subject to no sudden shock or strain. He always seemed to thrive on the atmosphere of distrust and discomfort which he had such a knack of creating and although the Melbury family was riddled with feuds and jealousies, these were always conducted in a polite manner, with sarcasm and innuendo but never a healthy row. So, although Sir Osmond looked older and his memory began to get vague, Jennifer and I still thought of him as a man likely to live for many years.
    At the end of August, as soon as Eleanor, Edith and George had news from Jennifer of their father’s illness, they, and George’s wife, all swooped down on Flaxmere like birds of prey. They hovered around, with flutterings and solicitous inquiries after his health, which thinly disguised their anxious peering and pecking after any shred of evidence as to the likeliness of his sudden death and the possibility that he was reconsidering his will.
    â€œVery nice of you all to be so fond of me!” Sir Osmond sneered. “Now you can go back to your grouse and think no more of me until Christmas!”
    That was all they got out of him. No one knew exactly how he would leave his money. He had been accustomed to say to his children when they were growing up: “If you show proper discretion in choosing husbands—or a wife, George—I’ll see that you’re properly dowered. If you don’t, you can wait for my money till I’ve done with it myself.”
    From that, everyone supposed that Hilda would receive her share when her father died, but there was a good deal of speculation as to whether—after George had received enough to keep up Flaxmere—the rest would be divided equally among the girls, or whether the amounts which Edith and Eleanor had already received would be counted as part of their share. Edith, who had turned down a young man she was really fond of in order to please her father by marrying Sir David Evershot, had once been heard to remark that if, after all, she got less than Hilda when the old man died it would be grossly unfair. The others didn’t express themselves so crudely, but probably held the same view.
    George had less cause for anxiety than the others because Sir Osmond held strong views on the rights of the son and heir. But the increasing importance of Miss Grace Portisham disturbed even George and worried George’s wife a good deal. They all considered that Jennifer’s presence at home was some safeguard and after Sir Osmond’s illness they felt this even more strongly.
    â€œI do think father’s right in wanting you to stay at Flaxmere,” Eleanor told Jenny that August. “I wouldn’t like to think of him left alone with Miss Portisham. You know one can’t trust a woman of that class; she hasn’t the same standards as we have. Oh, yes, of course she is clever and has acquired a superficial culture, but I don’t think she’s honest at bottom.”
    â€œMen of father’s age, especially when their faculties are impaired by illness, sometimes do very foolish things,” Edith had urged. “Look at Lord Litton Cheney’s marriage, only the other day, to a woman who was nothing more than his daughters’ governess! It’s a dreadful thing for those girls!”
    â€œFather’s comment on that,” Jennifer told them, “was that there’s no fool like an old fool!”
    â€œThat proves nothing,” said Edith. “I agree with Eleanor that you ought to be here. Father needs someone to look after him.”
    â€œAnd I’m no use for that, you know quite well,” retorted Jennifer.
    Edith ignored that and continued: “And it’s no hardship for you. You’ve got every luxury; you’ve got your Women’s Institutes that you’re so devoted to; you can live your own life and